Under This Roof
by Liete
Summary: -UK/US, implied onesided Romano/Spain, delinquent AU- 'That is why he is here, isn't it? Because he hopes that if there's really a god out there that whoever it is will have mercy on Alfred.'


**Under This Roof  
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**By: Liete**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters portrayed.**

**A/N: This one is rather heavy on religious themes, just as a forewarning. It takes place after "As You Were" but before "Downfall".****  
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He dreams of open fields where many rabbits play. The world is still new, but the threat of war is already on the horizon and it won't be long before he'll be swept up in it. He has to grow stronger, so he'll be the one on top, instead of the one getting swept away by the currents of change.

He was born to be alone. People will come into his life, but they'll always leave in the end. Even the rabbits in the field will eventually die and leave him.

He dreams of distant shores, the promise of a new world, and blue. Blue sea, blue sky, blue eyes. The end to his loneliness is in this new world; a boy who is warm, comforting, and loves him dearly despite his faults.

He's no longer dreaming, but he's still wrapped up in that warm comfort. The same as in his dream, in that new world, only there's a different smell accompanying it. It doesn't take away, only adds to his sense of comfort.

He knows that smell. He's become intimately acquainted with it, after all. Cheap cologne, worn leather, the lingering scent of fast food grease, and lately the slightest hint of tobacco.

Alfred.

Arthur's eyes snap open and he discovers the source of that smell. Draped across his shoulders is Alfred's jacket, and the boy himself is sitting a short distance away.

"Oh, good, you're awake. It's starting to get a little late, so I wasn't sure if I'd have to wake you myself," Alfred says with a slight smile and sits up a little straighter.

Arthur blinks and sits up stiffly. His back hurts. Looking around, he realizes he's on the roof of the school, and the sun is lower in the sky than it was when he first went up there. He frowns, and Alfred answers his unspoken question.

"When I got here you were asleep. You looked really peaceful, so I didn't want to wake you…"

Alfred trails off, looking away with slightly pink cheeks. Arthur's frown deepens further into a scowl, and he tears the jacket off himself and tosses it at Alfred, suddenly irritated. Alfred catches it and stares at Arthur in shock.

"So you decided to dump your ratty jacket on me, Jones?" Arthur grumbles and stretches out the painful kinks in his spine. Alfred pouts as he slips his arms back into his jacket, then he folds his arms childishly and scowls at Arthur.

"I didn't want you to get cold! And besides, it's not ratty! It's an _antique_!" he insists, as if he expects that Arthur will suddenly be convinced of its value and be filled with awe instead.

"And that's why you treat it so poorly?" Arthur scoffs in reply. He's getting more and more irritated by the moment, thanks to his dreams and his stiff muscles, and it's only accentuated by Alfred's admission that he was trying to keep Arthur warm with his jacket.

"I don't…treat it…poorly…" Alfred says, but he blinks and looks away with a furrowed brow as if he's suddenly not sure anymore.

Arthur scoffs, tired of this, and shifts over so he can grab Alfred's face and kiss him thoroughly. Alfred's arms go around him immediately as he kisses back, not missing a beat. Arthur begins to slip his hands into Alfred's jacket to remove it once again and the other boy tenses. Arthur pulls back to give Alfred an impatient look, but the hesitance on the other's face reminds him of why he shouldn't go any further.

It really is starting to get a little late, past the time they'd usually leave on any other day. Alfred won't refuse him, he knows, but it's clear that he'd rather be leaving. He has to go home, do his homework, get some sleep, whatever else he does when they're not together.

He leans forward and kisses Alfred deeply one last time, then begrudgingly pulls away and stands up. He adjusts his clothes before he heads to the stairwell that will lead him back down into the school.

Alfred shakes his head, dazed, then he quickly jogs to Arthur's side.

"Hey, wait! Let me buy you dinner! That way your mom won't have to reheat anything for you!" Alfred says with a bright smile as he holds open the door for Arthur.

Arthur, meanwhile, feels a pang of rage inside him at the mention of his mother and he glares at Alfred before he quickly descends the stairs.

"I don't think so," he snaps curtly, but Alfred has apparently decided to be persistent today, because he follows close behind and jumps in front of Arthur with an exaggerated attempt at a sad puppy look.

"Come on! Please? I promise it won't take long!"

Arthur grabs a hold of Alfred's shoulders and slams him against a wall. He gives the boy a sharp glare before he kisses him, deep with intentions of making Alfred forget all about his continuously ridiculous notions of the two of them spending extra time together.

Alfred looks appropriately dazed when Arthur pulls away and wipes at his mouth with a finger, then continues on his way out of the school. Alfred comes to himself quickly and follows again, but he wisely remains silent this time.

"I'll see you tomorrow then?" Alfred asks hopefully as they leave school grounds to go their separate ways. Alfred to his nice, well-balanced home and Arthur to his sad excuse for a family. He's not bitter about that, because they both deserve what they have, but Alfred is only feeding Arthur's irritation the more he speaks.

"Go home, Jones," Arthur says irritably and leaves Alfred frowning on the sidewalk. He grabs his carton of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket and pulls one of the sticks out with teeth so he can retrieve his Zippo lighter with the other hand. Shame he didn't get any sex today, because his irritation and frustration are strong enough that he can't just ignore it and go about his usual business in the cool, collected way he needs.

He goes home, though he doesn't know _why_ he continues to return to that broken farce of a family he has, but his hand pauses on the doorknob before he opens the door. Inside he hears yelling, his father and his eldest brother, and he frowns. He's already in a bad enough mood that he'd be apt to pick a fight with one of those bastards, but if they're already angry then something would likely be broken in the ensuing scuffle. The chances of that broken thing being just furniture aren't very high, either. He pulls his hand off the doorknob and stalks away. He'll have to find somewhere else to sleep tonight.

He doesn't pay attention to where he's heading, just letting his feet go wherever they want, and before long he finds himself at that church he'd been to before. He lets out a derisive bark of a laugh as he lingers outside the doors.

He doesn't believe in "God", not for himself anyway. He's long past the point of believing there's some sort of salvation for him, and he doesn't believe in hell when life is pretty much that. But he'd like to believe that there's something out there that looks out for people like Alfred. Keeps them good and kind even in the misery that is life until they're taken to a place that offers them all the rewards that their well-lived life deserves.

The more time Alfred spends with Arthur, the more he's straying from that path that leads to his inevitable paradise. Arthur doesn't intend to stop, not now at least, and Alfred has made no moves to suggest that he wants to end things either. Ridiculous boy who is too kind to say no.

Arthur scoffs as he pushes his way inside. He feels no remorse for his actions, just that they're done with someone like Alfred, who shouldn't be spending time with him in the first place. He makes his way up the aisle, but slows when he hears a voice coming from the front. As he gets closer he notices someone kneeling in the front pew. It's a brunet with one wild curl that pokes out from the front of his head, who is wearing the same uniform as he is. His head is bowed and he's clutching an expensive looking rosary in his hands. He's praying, Arthur realizes, and he stops to listen with some interest.

"…adesso e nell'ora della nostra morte. Amen," the boy finishes, and his fingers shift on the beads clutched in his hand.

"Italian?" Arthur asks casually. The boy nearly jumps out of the pew in surprise as he drops his rosary and flails slightly before he looks at Arthur with wide eyes. He looks familiar, but Arthur can't quite place why.

"What are you doing here?" the boy snaps, looking both incensed and terrified at the same time.

"I could ask you the same thing," Arthur says calmly and shrugs. "This isn't quite your side of town, is it?"

The boy swallows, watching Arthur as if appraising him. He doesn't relax in the slightest and keeps his eyes trained on Arthur even as he reaches down and retrieves his fallen rosary.

"You go to my school?" the boy asks instead, changing the subject.

"You could say that," Arthur replies as he takes a seat in the pew behind the Italian boy, who stiffens even more and shifts away. "That still doesn't answer what a person like you is doing in a piece of shit place like this."

"Watch your mouth in here, you-" the boy says, but bites on his lip before whatever word he was going to say can escape. Arthur smirks and lifts his feet up to rest on the pew in front of him. The boy scowls at his feet, as if he wants to comment on them, but doesn't say anything.

"Don't you have your own church to go to? Somewhere with incense and choirs and people who actually care?"

"That's the problem. If I go to my church, they all know me. They all care," he responds and shifts further down the pew away from Arthur. That statement piques Arthur's interest and he raises an eyebrow.

"Oh? And what have you done that you need to hide away in a place like this?"

"What business is it of yours, anyway?" the boy snaps, then shrinks away again. Arthur's smirk widens and he shrugs.

"I am merely making conversation, no need to get so upset," Arthur says smoothly. When the other boy doesn't respond, Arthur takes a moment to look around the church. He knows that there's some sort of priest who is responsible for the place's upkeep, but he never shows his face. Probably afraid of being killed or something. As such, the church is in poor condition. Dirty, dingy. This Italian boy with his expensive rosary must have committed something akin to murder if he feels the need to pray here instead of a nice, well kempt church.

"I never understood that…praying forgiveness for something you've done. It's rather selfish, isn't it? Do you expect to be forgiven for whatever it is you've done if you pray?" Arthur asks again after a period of silence.

"God is merciful," the boy responds simply. Arthur snorts and almost comments sarcastically on that statement, but then he thinks of Alfred again and he pauses. That is why he is here, isn't it? Because he hopes that if there's really a god out there that whoever it is will have mercy on Alfred.

"So if you keep praying, you'll be forgiven..?" Arthur asks, though he's not really addressing the Italian boy anymore.

"It's the closest to a Confession that I'll get for now, not that I'd need it in the first place if it wasn't for that Spanish…" he trails off in a string of Italian words that Arthur doesn't understand, but he's beginning to get at least a small picture of what is really going on here.

"Spanish what?" he asks and the Italian boy whips around to glare at him again.

"I'm done talking to you!" he snaps and he kneels again, bowing his head and clutching his rosary. He starts mumbling in Italian and Arthur realizes that the conversation really is over and he's not going to get anymore information out of him.

He scoffs and shifts his feet off the pew and onto the floor. He leaves the Italian boy to his devices and walks up to the familiar display of candles in the front. He doesn't know any prayers, and he's not going to ask that Italian boy for information on one, but he can light a candle.

He hopes, as he watches the flame flicker stubbornly on the wick, that that Italian is right, and that mercy will be granted to Alfred. That once Arthur is done with Alfred, leaving him like he leaves everyone else, that his golden ticket into heaven won't have been taken away because he was led momentarily astray by someone who doesn't even care like him.

He spares the Italian boy one last glance as he leaves, almost wishing he understood Italian so he could know what the boy is saying, what he's praying for.

"Santa Maria, Madre di Dio, prega per noi peccatori…"

But it's irrelevant now. He's not going to stop. Tomorrow he'll meet with Alfred again, and things will continue on like they always do. Continue until Arthur decides it's time to stop.

He's less irritated than when he entered the church, so he decides to go home and face any consequences when he gets there. He's not looking for forgiveness for anyone else, after all.

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**A/N: I also wanted to ask, since I'm committed to writing for this AU, do you prefer that they're posted as separate stories, or should I keep them all together in one "story" instead?**


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